


Hers, Thine

by bioplast_hero



Series: Briarwood Chronicles [1]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Arranged Marriage, Courtly Love, F/M, M/M, Multi, OT3, Princess!Allura, Royalty AU, Secret Relationship, Threesome, Wildly horny just you wait, knight!keith, prince!lotor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-27
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 01:07:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,425
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Prince Lotor thought the betrothal was the end of happiness, for him and for his knight, his lover, Keith. Princess Allura made sure it was the beginning.
Relationships: Allura/Keith (Voltron), Allura/Keith/Lotor (Voltron), Allura/Lotor (Voltron), Keith/Lotor (Voltron)
Series: Briarwood Chronicles [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1899718
Comments: 24
Kudos: 79
Collections: Lotor Week 2020





	1. Marjoram & Rue

**Author's Note:**

> A plot fic for a rarepair polyam ship?? Why, yes! I started writing smut and then _worldbuilding_ bit me in the eye, as it often does— and so here we have this new AU that I am now deeply invested in. Enjoy, friends.
> 
> Artist: [Kiki / FrenchPopsicle](https://twitter.com/FrenchPopsicle) made the scrumptious character art for this fic. I love it beyond words.
> 
> Beta: [Quantum Abyssmal](https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal) ♡ keeping me in line.

The betrothal felt like the end of happiness.

It was a good match; Lotor’s advisors were right about that. His parents passed before he came of age, though he was certain they would also have found it advantageous, if not favorable. He would bring peace to his kingdom with his union to the heir of Altea. She was brilliant, eloquent, beautiful, or so his informants said. In any other universe, Lotor would be glad of it.

Instead, his heart was breaking.

“What are you saying,” Keith rasped, eyes wide and gleaming in the deep shade of the forest.

“I am to be married,” Lotor said, his voice calmer than what he felt, “to the Altean princess.”

“How could you—” The knight’s voice shook as he cut himself off bitterly, eyes scouring for anywhere to land besides the prince’s face. He studied the sweet woodruff and yarrow by his boots, his hair a wild mane curtaining his dazed expression. Lotor gripped a silver birch hard, until the bark bit back. He willed his hand down to his side.

“When?”

Lotor swallowed. “We must be wed before my coronation next month. The apogee was deemed auspicious—”

Keith’s midnight eyes flashed to him in shock. “That’s not even a week!”

“You think I don’t know that, Keith,” Lotor squeezed his eyes closed. He’d never raised his voice at Keith before, not once in all their years. Just one more change between them.

When he opened his eyes again, Keith’s face was as he’d never seen it. If the gates of heaven had slammed closed, it would have felt less chill.

“I understand, my prince,” Keith bowed his head.

“Please, do not do this,” Lotor reached for his beloved’s wrist, falling just short as Keith pulled away.

“What am I to do,” Keith’s voice simmered quietly, “besides what I have always done? I am ever your servant.” Bowing, Keith turned on his heel and stalked away.

When she agreed to marry the Galran heir, Allura thought she knew what that meant. She would be leaving everything she’d ever known. Entrusting her safety and happiness, what one could expect of it, to a man she would not even meet before accepting his hand at the altar.

Allura expected a lonely existence in a stark land. She was strong; she would adjust.

She never expected she might be required to share.

But that was the position Allura found herself in, arriving in Daibazaal to find her royal coach guarded by an exquisite Marmoran knight on a striking red horse. For a fleeting moment, she hoped this was her prince.

Were things ever so simple at court. 

Sir Keith didn’t have a family name; just Keith, he said. Curious. But he was someone important, to be her royal escort today. Too humble to say what that  _ important something _ might be, she would have to work it out for herself.

On the road to the palace, a falling limb gave the horses a spook and one broke a shoe in the commotion. Keith frowned at the coachman.

“Well ’s’not my fault, init!” the coachman balked even while he wouldn’t meet the knight’s stare. “New shoes an’ all!”

“Then you are being cheated,” Allura cut in before Keith could manage it, climbing down from the carriage. She looked up at Keith in his saddle and found herself appreciating the view. “May I?”

The knight stepped his mount aside quickly, happy to oblige the princess.

Allura knew horses well, and this one would not be conveying any carriages until the farrier could be seen. “It appears we are fated to enjoy this fine day and walk.”

“Princess!” the coachman gasped. “Cannit have—“

“Yes, we simply  _ can’t _ have an innocent creature done in over such a foolish thing as a cut-rate shoe and a carriage ride,” she agreed mildly, her smile painted on and not reaching her eyes. “It is no difficulty. I wore traveling clothes.”

Allura tried not to peek in too obvious a manner, but she caught the Marmoran’s bitten-back smile. It made her hopeful for a moment, that she might win the rapport of those her future husband kept close. It would be a lonely life without allies, or even friends, in her new country.

“We can share my horse, your highness,” Keith offered his gloved hand. She liked him that much better for not questioning her ability or inclination to ride, royalty or not.

“Nonsense,” she laughed lightly. “Could our coachman not use your mount to bring aid to the poor creature? How long will our journey be on foot?”

Keith blinked at her, then squinted at the road, considering. “Two hours this way, just over one through the woods.”

The coachman looked aghast at the mere suggestion of an alternate route.

“Simple,” she smiled, “though I would require your services to find my way, Sir Keith. I do not yet know these woods of yours.”

His expression was blank for a moment, long enough for Allura to guess that she had missed some key detail. Then he moved, dismounting fluidly and handing off the reins.

“I reckon you’ll know them soon enough,” Keith replied neutrally, leading the way.

Unprovoked, Keith was a man of very few words, while Allura’s mind buzzed with ceaseless questions. As they slipped past the tree line, Allura decided to venture just a few. 

“You are the prince’s retainer?”

“Yes, princess.” The young man kept his eyes ahead, yet even in profile he was a remarkable beauty. Her gaze traced Keith’s proud brow and the sharp line of his jaw beneath the heavy fall of his black hair.

“What is he like?”

“I’m sorry?” Keith croaked, vervain eyes flitting up to meet hers in the dappled sunlight.

Allura smiled encouragingly before he could busy his eyes elsewhere again. “What is the prince like? I am to marry the man tomorrow. I’m afraid I cannot help but be curious.”

“I am sure his highness will wish to tell you about himself,” Keith deflected. “I wouldn’t presume.“

“Ah, but some things are not for him to say,” she countered, “wouldn’t you agree? What kind of man is he?”

Keith’s focus stayed steady on the path ahead, his silence long and loud.

“I gather he holds you in his affections,” Allura continued, “to entrust his betrothed to your care. And from your discomfort, you either admire the man or fear him.”

“He is  _ dear _ to me,” Keith replied sharply, catching himself only after the words made landfall. Allura knew well the signs of a striking a nerve, and felt the high arch of her eyebrow at the knight’s revealing choice of words. 

Keith halted his stride, his gaze pure defiance as he faced her and doubled down on what he’d said. “In my country, we love our prince. You would question my devotion?”

“Not at all,” Allura exhaled a laugh. This one may be a touch hot-headed for a royal guard, mulish perhaps and still young, but unquestionably ardent and loyal. “Your love is true.”

A new blush painted its way from Keith’s cheeks to the tips of his ears, radiant and sweet like summer. Allura felt a pang of longing, then. For this youth, perhaps, and for the distant hope of ever being the subject of such passion.

“And whence comes your affection?”

The young man sighed, resigning himself to this line of inquiry and whatever fate he feared from it.

“The prince...” Keith began, while Allura hung on every word.

Keith had expected nothing, once. Then the young prince found him trapping hares in the warren and deigned not to have the peasant boy carted off and taught the only lesson an orphan could expect: that life was cruel.

Instead, the prince claimed they were playmates, tying his handlers’ arguments in such knots that they could do little more than glower at the runt of a boy with dirt caked in his dark hair. Keith never understood what made the prince do it, not that day or since. The kindness was deeply suspicious to him then.

“The prince,” Keith began, “is fair.”

“Fair,” the princess repeated, amusement in her voice. 

“Yes, fair,” Keith breathed, feeling ridiculous and inept. He wasn’t good with people, never was. That was Lotor’s arena. And were Keith’s own flaws not considerable enough, the double bind of describing the prince to his intended was some kind of exquisite torture.

But that Lotor was just and good was an essential knowledge that hadn’t diminished with time. It was always close to Keith’s heart.

“His highness is his own master,” he answered. “He makes up his own mind about people. And he always knows what he’s fighting for.”

The princess hummed and, infuriatingly, waited for Keith to continue.

Lotor did more than absolve Keith’s poaching; he made good on his claim of playmates, meeting Keith in the woods over weeks and months for boyhood games. Lotor showed him better traps, while Keith taught the prince about tracking; he knew about wild things, living like one himself. But Keith had little more to offer than that, while Lotor brought kitchen scraps finer than Keith had ever tasted, and patiently taught him his letters as though it mattered.

Keith wondered why for years. The prince was known more for his cleverness than his generosity, and impressions of the heir clashed with the boy Keith knew from the woods.

The young royal soon taught Keith a thing or two about wielding a blade, and he was generous in that, too.

“He is competitive, but sporting. Relentless,” Keith kicked a rock underfoot. “His prowess is unmatched, in battle and statesmanship. Some think him a prodigy, but his skill is careful work, great resolve and… cunning.” Keith smiled to himself.

“This man sounds intimidating,” she remarked.

Keith pursed his lips. “I suppose he is, if one is easily intimidated.” He did not miss her smirk, and it stoked his fondness for her greatly. Allura was not one to shrink from challenge. “The prince has his charms.”

“Such as?”

“People flock to him. They want to know him— not merely on account of his station. He’s impossibly easy to like, at least when he wants to be,” Keith laughed under his breath. 

He couldn’t help thinking of Lotor’s witty flirtations, the highlight of any outing. The prince delighted just as much in the innkeeper’s flush as that of the man’s eldest daughter. It was mostly for show, Keith knew, an elaborate persona meant to give the people something to talk about that wasn’t his father’s endless war. Still, there was hardly a man or woman in Daibazaal who wouldn’t blush to speak of Lotor’s latest visit.

“The prince has wit and humor, and delights in using both,” Keith continued at length.

“I imagine he makes friends easily,” the princess concluded.

That gave Keith pause. He shouldn’t reveal too much, that he knew, but the lady seemed worthy of trust and Keith was not known for guile. Once begun, Keith found himself unexpectedly eager to speak part of his mind. And Keith knew of the prince’s private hurt like no one else.

“Friends are hard to come by, stationed above everyone,” Keith said quietly, eyes steadily on the path banked with sweet briar. “Is it not the same, being the princess of your people?”

“Ah,” she agreed with a swift nod. “Well, we all find our way. And we all need a little help.”

That rang true. Together, with Lotor’s singular resourcefulness, they learned that Keith was in fact descended from the Marmoran clan. An orphan no longer, as a young teen he was embraced by the clandestine warriors and called  _ family. _ But Keith was determined to follow different footsteps. He became a squire, recalling the look of surprise on Lotor’s face when Keith confessed that he wanted to stay and serve his prince.

“So the prince is a private man, then,” Allura mulled over Keith’s words, “in true matters of the heart.”

“Yes. Private,” Keith echoed. His pulse thrummed as he took in their surroundings. Just over the next shallow creek and to the right, there was a deer trail Keith knew well. Down that ambling path was the place where they most often met, deep in the dappled shade.

In the idealistic way of youth, Lotor taught Keith to expect fairness and kindness, even when his royal parents stood for neither. Their disappointment wounded him, though it did not change him. What the prince carried in his heart he could divulge to no one— except Keith.

And when the prince’s tongue parted the seam of Keith’s lips, the forest they loved embraced them. On the eve of his knighthood, Lotor’s name fell from Keith’s lips in profane prayer.

Keith never expected happiness, let alone happily ever after. But it would be a lie to say he hadn’t begun to dream.

He swallowed around the wobbly feeling growing in his stomach. “I’ve no doubt he’ll earn your trust, princess. And your heart, if you’ll allow him that. You wouldn’t regret it, I think. He is a man of deep feeling.”

Allura was thoughtful for a moment. “You give me hope, Sir Keith.”

“Just Keith, your highness,” he reminded her.  _ Love him well for me, _ he thought. “Please.”

“As you wish,” she smiled, though it seemed almost sad. “And yet, I think you are not  _ just _ anything.”

“What is she like?” Lotor asked, tying his collar. He met Keith’s eyes in the mirror.

Keith looked, in a word, miserable. His spine stretched straight as a rod, his eyes rubbed raw, and the tight line of Keith’s mouth was neutral only to those who didn’t know the man as Lotor did.

Lotor had to credit him for his efforts, though. Keith was here, dutiful and tireless despite all that was crumbling to ash between them. Keith would be every bit the loyal knight he swore to be, and the both of them would just have to get used to the new arrangement.

“You spent an hour with her,  _ on foot _ if talk of it is to be believed.” Lotor made a point of eyeing Keith’s dusty boots before meeting his eyes again as he adjusted his cuffs in the gilded mirror. “I would like to hear something of the woman I am to marry.”

Keith set his jaw. “I know you have your sources. How should this be any different?”

“Simple,” Lotor answered, turning to lean a hip against the dressing table. “I value your thoughts, Keith, above all others.”

Color crept into Keith’s cheeks, more anger than anything else. Damn if Keith wasn’t beautiful when he was angry.

The knight swallowed it down, studying his feet. “You’ll like her.”

Lotor felt his brow arch in answer. “You think so?”

“I know so,” Keith bit out, meeting his gaze. “Princess Allura is… spirited. Outspoken, clever. Self-possessed.” He paused, considering. “Impulsive.”

Lotor barked a laugh. “Now you got me. I do have a thing for impulse.”

Keith did not smile.

“And here I thought you’d tell me of her musical laugh,” Lotor wondered aloud.

“You don’t care much for those things,” Keith said.

Lotor considered him. “Do I not?”

Keith’s tense jaw gave him away, turning over some secret, bitter thought. Lotor didn’t want to be cruel, not really. He only wanted what he’d so long enjoyed: someone with whom he needn’t pretend. 

“Well,” Keith spoke at last, “I supposed I wouldn’t know what you like, more generally.”

“Only what I like, specifically—”

“What do I know about that, either?” Keith growled the words. The prince pulled up short, a rare thing, and stared at Keith openly. An apology sat on his tongue, but he couldn’t manage it.

“Is she beautiful?” Lotor asked instead.

Keith blinked at him and then looked to the window. “Yes.”

“Describe her for me?”

Blue sky reflected in Keith’s dark eyes as he contemplated an answer. “Tall, slender, regal. Waves of white hair down her back, downy like clouds, and her skin warm like coffee with cream.”

Keith seemed to be replaying the sight of her in his mind’s eye. Lotor felt something stir in himself in response.

Did he really want to hear of Allura, or only to keep Keith a minute longer?

“Her eyes are harebell blue, bright and lively when she speaks. She has those Altean marks, here,” Keith gestured to the high cheekbone, “two crescents of dusty rose. Elegant and kind. Her smiles feel genuine,” Keith trailed off.

“You are fond of her.”

Keith didn’t look at him. “Shouldn’t I be? She will be our queen.”

Lotor bit his lip. “I suppose that you should.”

Allura’s gown was very fine, juniberry with accents of currant and cornflower blue. Keith was at her side in what must be his finest leather armor, the black almost purple in the light. The gear looked stiff and new, or perhaps that was just the Marmoran’s discomfort in general.

The knight was to escort her to the throne room, where she would meet Lotor at the dais and be wed. Their path through the innermost courtyard was lined with tidy arrangements of impatiens and bright wildflowers, festive but understated, almost sweet. She found she preferred it all to the stately columns of lilies she would have expected at home.

“This is where we wait, princess,” Keith said quietly, “until it’s time.”

She nodded, stepping into a bit of shade. Her back to a trellis of sweet-smelling star jasmine, the last thing she expected then was the sudden touch at her wrist.

The impulse to strike was strong, the words  _ unhand me _ on her lips. But the knight, hand gently on his sword, stood very still with eyes wide. And not in fear, either; Allura recognized that blushing, stuttering expression as Keith eyed the unknown hand, hardly a finger grazing the back of her wrist.

“Oh,” she muttered.

The prince withdrew his hand, having succeeded in getting her attention through the vines. She could not see him.

“Your highness,” Lotor greeted her.

“My prince, you are a terror,” Keith hissed. “Are you here to play at humiliating me while I guard your bride? Fortunately and unfortunately for you, I know your step, sir.”

“Peace, Keith,” Lotor’s voice was jovial and warm. “I trust you with my life and all I hold dear. You know that.”

Keith’s expression went a bit pale, poor lad. He turned and walked a few paces further on, giving them privacy.

“We are not to meet until tonight,” Allura whispered to the prince, her agitation plain in her voice. Her heart still raced.

“Do you count this as meeting? I’ve yet to see your face.”

Allura huffed. “Now that seems like stretching the very limits of the definition, don’t you think?”

“Oh, I’ve been known to do that from time to time.”

She grinned in spite of herself. 

“And what am I to think of you from this? His highness is impetuous—”

“Ah, no. I assure you I am very much considering my actions. Impatient, I’d grant you—”

“—Impertinent, presumptuous,” she continued.

Lotor scoffed. In a beat of pause, Allura’s heart thundered for fear that she may have taken the taunt too far.

Then, more softly than before, he said, “Curious.”

_ Oh. _

“I very much look forward to our meeting,” Lotor said in a low voice, so earnest.

“Wait,” she whispered.

“Yes, princess?”

“Lend me your hand again,” she said, swallowing her smile.

Slowly, the prince extended his hand to hers through the bower. Allura fitted her fingers into his, squeezing gently. He returned the hold and her heart swelled, full of promise.

“Until then,” she said softly, withdrawing her hand. The prince slipped away without another word.

Lotor closed the door to the royal apartments, following at the heels of his bride— no, his wife. His princess, soon his queen.

Allura turned to him, her coronation gown hardly creased after hours of ceremony and the celebration that followed. Her cheeks were gently flushed with something like excitement, dress draping in such a way as to bare the soft mocha skin of one shoulder. She was a vision.

He was staring.

“May I offer you anything?”

“No more wine,” she laughed gently. Lotor felt a smile pull his lips.

“No, I suppose not,” he agreed. “Tea?”

For a moment, he could not read her expression, which was a bit disquieting. He made it his business in general to read people’s intentions, desires and moods. But then her eyes were smiling and she nodded, taking a seat on the plush divan. He called for the tea tray with the chime of a small bell and returned to sit at her side.

Here they were, married, still working out their first impressions of one another. The thought of that was stifling, but that wasn’t her fault. None of the upheaval he was feeling was her fault.

By degrees, he allowed himself to relax into the scent of her, pear and delicate sandalwood floating against her skin, and let the thought of her closeness warm him.

“Are you comfortable?” Lotor turned to see her face. 

“Yes, my prince,” she answered formally. It sounded wrong to him.

“Please,” he said gently. “I think I’d very much like to hear my name in your voice.”

It felt very forward, put in that way. He was half-shocked that he said it so clumsily, but her flush of pleasure rewarded him moments later. “Lotor.”

“Allura,” he tried the sound. “It is a beautiful name. I always wanted to know my mother’s country. I hope this will be the beginning of renewed friendship between our people.”

Something passed over her expression, then, too quick to catch. “Friendship is your desire.” It was not a question.

“I,” Lotor hesitated. So near, he wanted to study the swell of her lips. He resisted, falling into her eyes instead. “Forgive me, I’ve gotten us off to a poor start. How clumsy of me. It’s only that I hope for a chance to know you better.”

“You needn’t apologize,” she answered, though her expression would say otherwise. “I, too, am only trying to understand the person I married.”

When he remembered to breathe, Lotor caught the scent of her again, creamy wood and something buoyant that was all her. 

“Do you think me beautiful?”

“Extremely,” he answered, almost too quickly, though her flush was there to say that the answer was welcome. If that was her fear, he could very well put that to rest.

“You are many things to my mind. Brilliant, captivating, and strong. I desire you, no question. And,” he held her eyes earnestly, “I do also hope that we’ll be friends.”

Allura’s slow-spreading smile warmed his chest, lifting a weight away. “I believe we will manage that.” Her eyes dipped down to his lips. “May I know the feeling of my husband’s kiss?”

Lotor moved. It was not like the kiss at the altar, a chaste brush of skin as protocol demanded. Almost as gentle, this was a sensual slide meant to crack him open inch by inch. He went willingly.

Allura tilted her face, deepening the slow kiss as Lotor folded her into his arms. The evidence of her desire seared through him, leaving him short of breath when they parted.

She hummed, blinking her eyes open to look at him. “I’m not actually sure I want tea.”

Allura tried not to fault herself for seeking comfort in her husband’s arms. It was clear that Lotor did not initially expect to consummate their vows that very night; that they didn’t, in the end, was a near thing.

Her chemise rode high on her thighs as Lotor gripped her waist tightly, their legs entangled on the bed. The laces of his shirt hung loose, jerkin discarded on the floor. Quiet sighs of pleasure wafted in the air as they kissed in luxurious, worshipful slowness.

She moaned low as he suckled her neck beneath her ear. Lotor seemed to freeze up at the sound.

“Must I be quieter?” she whispered.

“No, not at all,” he answered, “I love the sounds you make. If it pleases you.” And yet he didn’t return to his previous occupation.

Allura pillowed her lips against his. Lotor kissed back only faintly.

“Lotor,” she said sweetly, kissing his cheek. “Will you tell me what weighs on you?”

Lotor pursed his lips, drawing away. “I’m afraid some of my thoughts are not befitting of our wedding night.” The shadow he could not name hung there in his eyes, though he tried for a conciliatory smile, smoothing a strand of her hair behind her ear. Allura wanted to lean into that touch. “I never meant for it to trouble you.”

They would get nowhere like this, she knew quite suddenly. It wasn’t the life she wanted, one spent holding back everything that mattered. She had waited for her life to start. Now she wanted more.

“Are we going to talk about Keith?”

She asked it softly, with no accusation in her tone, but Lotor went rigid like he’d been slapped.

“What of Keith?” That wasn’t a denial. Neither was it a confession, except for how he seemed coiled, something protective flaring to life at the young man’s name.

“That he loves you.”  _ Were it so simple. _

Lotor rose from the bed, busying his hands with pouring cool water into crystal glasses. His performance was unconvincing. “I am gratified, should my subjects love me well.”

“Subjects,” she echoed.

He handed her a glass. “Is it rare in Altea, to bear such love for the crown?”

“Such as his? Why yes,” she arched her brow, “most rare.” At his silence, she rose from the bed, resting a hand lightly on the prince’s upper arm. “I don’t know your fears, but my disapproval need not count among them.”

His expression was tight. “I’ve said nothing.”

“And you can continue saying nothing, if that is your wish. Your silence says more than you know.”

Lotor shut his eyes tightly. “Why are you asking me this?”

“Because I believe you are suffering,” Allura said simply. When he didn’t answer, she paced to the window in her shift, drawing open the curtain. “I know what it is to grieve another life.”

His silence felt weighty. “It must be terrible for you, coming here.”

Allura turned, not expecting that assessment, or not exactly. She studied him, half-turned to look at her, then she tipped her head down. “No, that is… not precisely what I meant.”

Lotor shifted to face her properly, the tilt of his head inquisitive and earnest. It was rather cute, she thought longingly.

“What do you grieve?” he asked. 

“Ah, now I am to spill my secrets, while you hoard yours?” 

Her tease was faint, but he smiled knowingly in reply and stepped closer. “I deserve that.”

Smirking, she turned back to the moon. “To join your court, I left dear friends behind, sometimes-lovers, but no great, consuming love. I never let myself, knowing that I was duty-bound to forfeit those attachments. I suppose I was lonely these years.”

Lotor’s hands found her shoulders. The weight of his palms against cloth and bare skin burned through her, forcing a sigh from her lungs. Feeling that his touch was welcome, the prince smoothed his fingers up the crest of her shoulders and then through her hair.

“Before we ever met, I saw you through that young man’s eyes,” she laughed and it sounded sad even to her. “What I wouldn’t give for a part of what you have.”

Lotor’s grip tightened unconsciously, snagging in her locks. 

“That was the past.”

“Don’t say that,” she felt her heart squeeze, turning until his arms draped around her neck.

Lotor’s eyes were stunning: blue irises set in gold, sharp and expressive as he studied her. “I swore my heart to you, princess. You are my wife. I will be true.”

“But part of that heart was no longer yours to give away. Don’t you see?”

He sighed, the fight leaving his frame. “You must hate me.”

“No! I do not. I quite like you,” she felt her cheeks heat at the reckless confession. “I think I will come to love you, if you will allow me.”

“And I you.” His words felt electric as his gaze bored into her. “And you simply… accept this part of me, as easy as that?”

“Is it not easy, to love what you love?”

“Allura,” he murmured, and it felt like honey soothing down her throat. His awe was something beautiful. She pulled him close and dared to hope.

“I will give you no cause to hide from me,” she said quietly, “in the hopes that you won’t.”

“On my honor,” Lotor swore. Then his lips curved into a smile. “And with your interrogation skills, I’d much prefer have you on my team than against me.”

She laughed then, bright and free. “Let’s be a team, then.”

“Unstoppable,” Lotor sighed the word against her lips as he leaned down, capturing her mouth in a ravishing kiss. It felt like lightning seeking the ground, Allura’s appetite only growing as her hands found his skin beneath the hem of his shirt.

He shivered, reaching to unfasten his cuffs. “And, Allura?”

“Yes?” She sounded as breathless as she felt. Lotor’s golden eyes sharpened, giving away how affected he was, but his voice was even.

“I am glad you are here.”

Pleasure bloomed in her chest. “You make me feel glad to be here.”

“Good,” Lotor preened at her words. “Name your heart’s desire, and if it is within my power, you shall have it.”

She tugged at his shirtsleeves, now loose. “Let’s start with this.”

Keith found his way to a balcony with a half jug of wine sloshing in his grip. He was stumbling rather more than he would find excusable on any other occasion.

For the occasion of Lotor’s wedding, however, it seemed fitting.

He threaded his legs through the railing to sit with his boots dangling in the breeze, deciding that a seat on top of the railing was too precarious in his current state.

It was over. It was done. Now would this day never end?

Lotor had tried to speak with him that morning, but Keith finally gave in to being selfish. He could not bear that the prince would reach for him, holding on far longer than what would pass for a hug. Keith’s heart would shatter if he felt that, and all the rest that he couldn’t have again.

The ceremony was just the slow winding of the racking wheel. The chaste kiss was nothing more than protocol. Greeting the courtiers showed the statesman Lotor had become, and Allura his match in those sorts of things. Dancing at the feast was for show.

No, it was the wedding night that haunted Keith’s mind. 

When Lotor was alone with her at last, he’d find someone supremely worth knowing,  _ worth loving. _ Only a fool would throw that away. Lotor wasn’t a fool.

Keith had tripped into the gardens below when his bottle was fuller, finding a greenway to wedge himself into before crying hard until his eyes burned and ribs hurt from his wracked breathing.

Lotor didn’t let just anyone into his confidence, into his heart. But Allura was deserving. Keith wanted to hate her for it, maybe, but it wasn’t in his nature.

Did he wish his beloved to be miserable, if he couldn’t have Keith? No, he didn’t. And it didn’t matter what it cost him; the prince deserved this stunning piece of luck. 

It wasn’t hatred Keith suffered, then, but envy cut deeply enough.

Much deeper into his cups now, the stone of the balcony floor called Keith’s name until he tipped back to watch the sky. The moon was waxing full, an optimistic sign— for king and kingdom, if not for Keith’s secret heart.

He wondered what the newlyweds were doing right now.

Keith’s imagination was cursed, or so he decided then, for he knew Lotor so very well. It was too easy to picture their gentle parlay, halting questions and answers, coy smiles and hesitant overtures of affection— all until someone moved first.

Allura’s lips would be lush and soft, her sounds softer. Lotor’s hands would move confidently, making short work of her lacings. Keith flushed where he lay and tried not to see any more. But the next part came easily.

Lotor’s grip would grow more predatory, more claiming, as he moved to suckle at her neck. He’d love the way she moaned, the way the prince had sometimes loved making Keith keen and claw at the prince’s back. Parting her legs, he’d taste her, eager to please. The prince always did relish the tastes of sex. He might convince her to ride his face— if not this night, then soon.

Keith imagined her stretching out underneath him, eyelids fluttering. He’d capture her mouth, growling into the kiss. The sounds of her pleasure were intoxicating.

Shuddering, Keith palmed himself through his britches. It was not his fault; he didn’t try to think these things. They came to him on the breeze, the thought of slipping into her body as she panted his— no,  _ the prince’s _ name. Lotor thrusting his hips, piercing him— no,  _ her. _ Keith came on a cry and hated himself for his weakness.

Keith took another swig of wine, sloppily. He wiped at his mouth, feeling clammy in his pants. He didn’t move from the spot. He didn’t care.

Would Lotor fall asleep there, head pillowed on her breast, and would he wake in her arms? Would he smile?


	2. Honeysuckle

“Keith!”

Allura watched as he shrank from the sound of his name, turning in a flourish of wild hair and wilder eyes, sunlight piercing beneath the stone arches of the arcade.

“Your highness,” the knight took a knee, or more accurately fell to it, head bowed low.

“Keith, please,” she extended her hand to him, which he studied for several beats before alighting his fingers on her palm and rising to his feet. It was the barest of touches, and a wonder for how it stole her breath.

“I would like to call you a friend, Keith, if I may be so bold. Will you do me the favor of your company?”

Keith’s jaw worked silently until words returned to him. “Y-yes, of course, princess.” It was a start, at least.

“Walk with me.”

He stumbled. Allura gave him another look over, seeing at last that the man was suffering very much from drink. Unfair for one to be so handsome while so afflicted.

“I see that you enjoyed the feast,” she teased.

Keith huffed a laugh as he took a cautious step. The sound was reedy and almost pained, but she thrilled to see him break with his strict decorum, if only for a moment. 

“I feasted, and toasted my prince and his bride,” he blinked at the bright morning sky with a grimace of pain, “perhaps more than was strictly necessary.”

“Perhaps,” she laughed, tucking her arm under his until they linked at the elbow. It would appear as though the knight were escorting the princess, and not the other way around. “Let’s get you some water.”

Keith moved stiffly but went with her, almost leaning into the touch while she led him. She sent a servant on their errand with a wave of one hand.

Allura cleared her throat. “I was hoping to find you this morning.”

“You were.” It was more a statement than a question.

“The prince and I, well, we would very much enjoy your company for dinner this evening.”

The knight nodded tightly, his eyes half-hidden in his mane. “I rather thought your majesties would seek some time to get to know one another, maybe go on holiday. Your coronation is not for a fortnight—”

“I would like to get to know _all_ of my new family,” she offers.

Keith eyed her with the look of a man resigned to be unhappy, almost bored with the notion already. And perhaps _family_ was the wrong sentiment, but it seemed the most dear she could utter aloud in the corridor. 

“I am yours to command,” he answered, slipping back into formality. “In the great hall?”

“Ah no. Something more private,” she smiled, pulse starting to race at the thought of what she proposed. “We’ll dine in our chambers.”

Keith’s eyes snagged on hers then, gaping. “I can’t. I couldn’t.”

“And why not?”

“W-why, I,” the knight sputtered, tongue in a tangle. “Princess, the people will get the wrong idea. There will be talk of it.”

“Will there? You know as well as I that they wouldn’t dare. Besides, it is as you said. There is great love for the prince in your country, however… unorthodox he may be.”

Keith pouted.

“Tell me,” she patted his arm, steering him to continue their walk, “what is truly the matter?”

He studied the stonework beneath their feet for a long minute. “What am I to offer you? I’m no bard, not much for entertainment—”

“Only your company, Keith.”

He seemed for a moment to shiver at the thought.

“Will you come?”

“Yes,” Keith uttered, the words tugged from him in a breathy rush. He swallowed thickly. 

Allura leaned closer to speak low at his ear.

“He misses you, you know.”

Keith froze, spine taut like a bow.

“Please come.”

Lotor caught Keith’s eyes briefly across the rail as the knight looked up from his sparring partner, dust caked and smeared where he must have wiped his jaw with the back of his hand. Lucky for him, Keith was the superior fighter and he bested his fellow guardsman despite the distraction and the other man’s superior size. Flat on his back beneath Keith in his dark Marmoran leathers, the guard yielded at once.

Lotor’s breath caught in his chest at the familiar sight of his love in his element, resplendent and powerful in the sunlight. The prince thanked the stars at his fortune, that his bride- his wife- encouraged him to hang on to the happiness they’d had.

Lotor needed only to convince Keith to forgive him.

All assembled pulled up in a salute as the first of his men noticed the prince’s approach.

“Peace,” Lotor waved a hand, “as you were.”

It was a marvel, sometimes, how quickly the approach of the crown could clear a room. Lotor’s bannermen loved him, but no one wanted to be caught awkwardly standing about or listening in. Especially when the prince had that look in his eye, making a beeline for Keith.

“I’m sorry for scaring off your companions,” Lotor said, feeling a smile pull at his mouth. A smile that left him when he saw it was not returned.

“I am at your service,” Keith answered, his expression carefully neutral. He wiped a damp rag over his face, looking labored and rubbed raw. It wasn’t like Keith to be out of breath. Recalling the number of men who had _limped_ off rather than walked, it occurred to him that they all had Keith to thank for their walloping. 

“Are you intending to train yourself into the ground, Keith?” Lotor asked. He meant concern, though it sounded rather more disapproving than that. Maybe he was a little of that, too.

Keith snapped to attention with eyes wide like he’d been scolded. That wasn’t like the young man, either. Where was his defiance?

“Forgive me, my prince—”

“No, please,” Lotor cringed at his love’s cowed spirit. “Forgive me,” he said, taking a step closer and reaching until the sharp cut of Keith’s jaw rested in his palm.

The breath falling from Keith’s lips made a softly strained sound as his eyes widened. These touches of theirs had been secret, saved for their rambling walks in the deepest woods, or shared in Keith’s bed when winters were too long to stay away. Never so openly as this, even with the men making themselves scarce.

Keith looked wrung out, the smarting hangover no match for the well of grief in his dark eyes. But just when Lotor steeled himself for rejection, Keith leaned into his lingering touch. The prince had to shut his eyes for a moment at the tenderness of it, eyes stinging as he took in the open look on Keith’s dirt-smeared face. 

“I’ve hurt you.”

Keith nodded. “You have.”

Lotor felt his jaw tighten in determination. “Never again.”

The knight shook his head at that. “Don’t promise what you cannot.”

“And if I can?”

Keith huffed a miserable laugh.

“We spoke of you,” Lotor carried on, his hand falling away as Keith turned to pace a few stiff steps. “Allura is fond of you. She would not keep us apart.”

Keith rested his hands on his hips, facing away. “I am sworn to my princess, as I am to you,” he replied, studying the tree line beyond the training fields. “Were she to allow her husband to have me on the side,” Keith’s laughter was dark, looking back over his shoulder, “what of it? Just think of it. What life is that for Allura? Or for me.” He kicked a stone underfoot.

“You can ask her yourself, Keith. Tonight. Hear her out,” Lotor tried to keep the plea from his tone.

Keith shifted his stance, studying Lotor’s face. “Tonight,” he echoed. “That is… the nature of this private meal?”

“Just a conversation,” Lotor answered quickly.

Keith laughed then, shaking his head. How he managed to look amused and sullen all at once was a skill the prince attributed uniquely to Keith. “What does one wear to this kind of ‘conversation’?”

Lotor smiled as he took a step closer, hand finding Keith’s bicep and giving a squeeze through his leather armor, steamy and supple in the strong heat of the afternoon.

“Come as you are, Keith. Or, well,” the prince smirked, “perhaps a bath, first. You are a bit more ripe than usual.”

At the jab, Keith shook off Lotor’s hand in a huff, but he couldn’t hide his smile. “We common folk don’t all have baths of our very own,” he mocked, reminding Lotor at last of the boy he loved.

“You’ll use mine.”

“What?” Keith’s demeanor changed in a flash.

“Use mine, I insist,” Lotor waved his hand like it was nothing, not a complete breach of decorum and show of favoritism that the late king would never have borne. “My manservant will look after you.”

Keith rehinged his jaw with some effort, arching an eyebrow. “I always thought you’d wait to be crowned king before you started to make all your own rules.”

“Ah, no,” Lotor felt his heart thundering, “I believe that I am ready to start today.”

Keith fussed with his collar and his cuffs. He’d never worn silk, and the way it draped made him feel like something was askew, though he was sure after the second try that he had tucked it in straight. Maybe it was supposed to feel like that, sultry and shifting against his skin as he moved.

He’d also never sat in the royal bath, perfumed with oils for softening the skin, and mixed with some relaxing salts that probably cost Keith’s yearly salary. Rigid and anxious as he was when he entered, Keith could not resist the way the bathwater sapped the tension from his limbs. Distantly, Keith knew this was Lotor’s way of apologizing, and in that moment he determined he would never again hesitate over an invitation to bathe like a king.

The attendant was impartial, professional, and soon left him alone with his thoughts— not before pointing out the stack of folded garments that were, apparently, fitted to his approximate size, although Keith had certainly never laid eyes on them before. He sunk deeper into the tub and closed his eyes.

Dressing in those well-made clothes, high-waisted breeches in a black brocade and silk shirt in cobalt blue befitting a court bard, Keith was glad he at least brought his very best boots. His hair was exactly as it always was, no more tame for being perfumed with eucalyptus and rosewood. He took in his reflection in the long mirror with a steadying breath, eyes peering out beneath his unruly fringe. What his prince found handsome there, he may never know.

_But he does,_ Keith thought, hope blooming in his chest very much against his will. Lotor wanted to _keep_ him, the princess wanted to _let_ him, and Keith found himself bursting with agitation and the certainty that he wouldn’t make it through this night without screwing it all up somehow.

“Sir Keith,” the attendant spoke softly as he entered, inquiring without inquiring.

“I’m finished. I mean,” Keith gulped, “I’m ready.”

When Keith entered, Lotor reclined on his chaise as he was wont to do, a snifter of spirits resting in one hand. Allura stretched on the next sofa in a peach gown, a breezy Altean design with the top tied in small knots over her shoulders and at the nape of her neck. She was just telling Lotor a tale about her father, some sweet memories to bide their time until their Keith could join them.

When he did, Lotor stared. He could not look away.

His love— the rough boy he befriended, his fierce knight and dearest friend— stood before him dressed as a courtier. He looked fresh and soft, his hair still rakish like a pirate, dark fire in his eyes. Seeing Keith this way _did_ things to him. Lotor’s eyes helplessly traced the full length of the young man’s legs, back up the deep V of Keith’s shirt, exposing a column of windswept skin up to his throat.

Allura cleared her throat softly, reminding the prince that he was staring and that Keith looked nervous, bless him. Collecting himself, Lotor stood without a word and closed the distance between them. His hands came to settle on both of Keith’s arms, intoxicated with the feeling of Keith’s body in exquisite silk. It was no small mystery how Lotor resisted this particular indulgence until now.

“You came.”

“You thought I wouldn’t?” When Lotor didn’t answer, Keith breathed a laugh. “And miss out on the best bath of my life?”

Allura laughed brightly. “I knew I liked your spirit, Keith.”

She meant encouragement, but Lotor didn’t miss how Keith blushed, no doubt replaying his words to the prince and cringing over the brashness of it.

“Peace, Keith,” Lotor petted his hand up to grip Keith’s shoulder very near the join of his neck, willing the man to relax. It worked like a charm. The prince leaned in by a fraction, saying, “You look stunning. I’m afraid I won’t take my eyes off of you all night.”

Color traveled up Keith’s cheekbones to the tops of his ears. It was only then that Lotor relented, releasing him and gesturing. “Come, sit. Wine?”

“No, thank you,” Keith murmured, practically vibrating in his skin.

Allura gave Keith a knowing smile. “I, too, had quite enough last night to last me. Here, try the appetizers.” She shifted to make Keith a place by her side, Lotor returned to his chaise.

Keith looked around for plates or a fork and came up empty.

“These are finger foods, Keith,” Allura nodded encouragingly. “If I were you, I would start with the nectarines,” she pointed. “They’re brought all the way from Altea this week and they won’t last.”

Keith reached for a wedge, lifting it delicately as though he might do it some harm. It was adorable, leaving a warm feeling in Lotor’s chest, and then Keith brought the fruit to his mouth. Eyes fluttering, a soft sound of pleasure swelled out of him, sending that warmth to the prince’s lap instead. The note hung in the air while Keith licked soft cheese and wine reduction from his upper lip.

Lotor knew he loved to watch Keith enjoy new foods, since their shared boyhood and the many treats the prince would smuggle from the kitchens into the woods. But he was sure he’d never seen anything so sensual as this.

“Gods,” Keith breathed, “never knew I liked fruit quite so much.”

“You’ve never had Altean fruit,” Allura beamed. It struck Lotor then that he wasn’t the only one eyeing Keith like a wolf. “There’s plenty more, please.”

“You are sure,” Keith said, hesitating, and yet he was unable to tear his eyes from the rest of the spread.

“We had a head start on you,” Lotor answered, “and there’s another two courses on the way. Dear boy, you look shocked—”

Keith blinked over at him, eyes soft. “I’m not accustomed to feasting, between feast days, that is,” he gave a thin laugh.

“Try everything, Keith,” Allura assured. “It delights me to see you enjoy yourself.”

There it was again, that lavish note in her voice. If Lotor didn’t know better, he’d suspect that she, too, intended this opportunity to woo the young man. Seduce him, even. And it was an effort not to think of seduction, as Keith lifted varied morsels to his mouth— stuffed figs, venison and honeyed ham on little toasts, slices of pear dusted with cloves, polenta squares, deviled strawberries. Keith mostly managed to swallow his little sounds of pleasure, but that did nothing to diminish the effect of Keith’s eyelashes fanned against his cheek as he paused to lick his fingers. Allura nibbled, encouraged, looking almost as affected as Lotor felt. _She wants him, too,_ the prince thought. So absorbed was he in this thought that Lotor missed some question angled in his direction. They were both looking at him expectantly.

Lotor sat up. “My apologies,” he chuckled, surprised at his inattention. He felt unbalanced suddenly, wrong-footed. He set his snifter down. “What did you say?”

“I said,” Allura smiled, “that I’d like him to feel welcome here. With us.”

Lotor took in Keith’s flush and the tension in his shoulders, and suddenly wanted quite desperately to press the man back into the couch and kiss him breathless. He found himself thinking of the way Keith unfolded like a flower when Lotor took the lead.

“That is what we asked you here to discuss,” Lotor recovered, remembering his purpose. “I know you had questions, Keith.”

Keith froze, glancing between them furtively. He seemed unable to reply for a long moment.

“Why?” Keith’s eyes were on Allura as he asked.

She tilted her head. “Why?”

Keith set his jaw in determination. “Why would you share him? You needn’t. The prince is loyal, he will honor you, and so will I—”

“I want his happiness,” she answered simply, like it _was_ simple, “and yours. And for the first time in many years, I see a chance for my own.”

“Happiness,” the knight echoed, doe-eyed. He looked so young.

“Yes, happiness. Contentment. Pleasure,” she purred, her smile lopsided and wry. “If I was a bit more selfless, I wouldn’t consider what it is that I want, but—”

“Be selfish,” Keith murmured.

Allura pulled up short, flushing at his words. Lotor’s heart thundered as she gave Keith an aching smile. Her eyes shifted to Lotor, asking without asking. He didn’t know the question, but what would he refuse? He nodded.

“I like the way you look at me, Keith. I want you to share me, too.”

That was not the answer Keith expected, judging by the exhale it forced from him. He forgot to move, forgot to breathe.

Lotor rose without thinking, taking a seat at Keith’s far side. His stomach flipped with anticipation as he reached for his knight’s thigh. Keith was strung so tight that he hissed at the touch like he’d been burned. The prince smoothed his other hand over Keith’s back soothingly.

“Easy now,” Lotor murmured. “You needn’t answer now—”

“Yes.”

Allura huffed a little laugh as Keith turned in Lotor’s arms.

“You didn’t tell me,” Keith whispered.

Lotor snorted. “I didn’t know.” An ill response, he realized at once, as Keith’s eyes shot wide with fear.

“My prince, forgive me—”

“—No, none of that,” he stopped Keith’s mouth with a firm kiss. Desire surged forward as he felt Keith shiver beneath his lips and his hands. “Be ours, Keith. I won’t let you regret it.”

“Keith.” He turned at the sound of his name on her lips. Keith lingered dazedly over the feel of the prince’s mouth on his, all that he believed lost now returned to him tenfold.

Allura was looking at him, pleased, eager. At _him,_ a commoner despite being trussed up in fine clothes, and yet she looked at him like a treasure.

“Come,” she gestured, “we are keeping you from your meal. Here,” she reached for a morsel and kneeled on the seat beside him, leaning closer and raising a slice of nectarine and soft cheese to Keith’s lips.

His mouth opened, unbidden. Moving at the invitation, she slid the ripe flesh onto his tongue. The burst of sweet juices this time took second place behind the brush of her fingertip against his lip. As he swallowed the bite, her eyes held on his lips.

“You’ve, uh,” she blushed as she poised her hand again, this time her thumb, to wipe over his upper lip, coming away with a dot of cream. She brought the pad of her finger to her lips and her eyes fluttered closed.

The sight throbbed through Keith’s whole body. He must have made some unconscious sound, because her eyes were on him in a flash, darker than before, and Lotor’s breath was hot at the nape of his nick.

“You want to kiss my wife,” Lotor whispered. “Your princess. You want to lie with her, bring her pleasure. You want to part her legs. You—”

Keith was shaking, adrenaline and lust a heady cocktail.

“Don’t tease him, husband.”

Lotor hummed near Keith’s ear, but whatever he intended to say died on the prince’s lips as Allura swept Keith into a demanding kiss.

Hers was the softest mouth Keith had ever felt. He heard himself moan, helpless as he tipped his face up to meet her. He felt Lotor’s hands at his waist as her tongue slid against the seam of his lips. He opened for her as Lotor groaned, nibbling at Keith’s neck.

Allura’s hands were on him then, caressing his chest through the clinging silk with surprising strength. Keith knew not what to do with his hands, frozen in his lap between two masters. Her hands, though, were demanding, her tongue claiming. She coaxed his nipples to pebble under her touch. Keith keened as she gave one a deep pinch.

“Beautiful boy, so sensitive,” Allura purred, laying kisses over his face as she crawled forward, straddling his lap on her knees in a pool of her long gown. She pressed Keith into the back of the sofa with purpose, raking nails through his spill of hair as she kissed down his throat.

Lotor at his side reached to pet a hand down Allura’s back to her hip, his eyes watching Keith. “I never wanted to see you with another,” the prince confessed, “until now.”

Keith’s breath caught. When Lotor first had him, Keith knew he’d never get his heart back. He was Lotor’s and he thought of no other. But the prince good as admitted he’d thought about it, other hands taking Keith as he had done, taking Keith _from_ him. There was something possessive in Lotor’s gaze now, even as Allura’s lips claimed the skin of his throat with little marks of her own.

“Keith,” Allura soothed, fingers still threaded in his hair. He blinked at her, wondering what he’d done or maybe said that gave her pause. “You got a little lost there,” she smiled. “Have we overwhelmed you?”

“Yes,” Keith breathed a laugh, startled by the desperate sound of his own voice. Hesitantly, he settled his hands over her thighs, firm through the soft drape of silk.

Allura settled her weight on Keith’s legs, close enough to where he wanted her that he hardly resisted pulling her in to sate his growing need for friction. He’d been ignoring how his cock ached, straining his tight breeches. He ignored it better when she wasn’t so close he could almost taste it.

She looked at Lotor, his quirked grin a perfect snare, and with a hand on Keith’s chest she leaned to kiss the prince. Lotor met her there, pulling her in with a hand in her hair and startling a trill out of her. Keith panted as he watched Lotor’s mouth work, something he’d felt but not seen. Her eyes fluttered open, pulling back to look at Keith.

“Your hands,” she panted. He hadn’t noticed his grip on her thighs turn rough in his excitement, his whole body wound to spring. But before he could move them, let alone stammer an apology, she said, “Show me what your hands can do.”

She turned back into Lotor’s kiss, leaving Keith to his own devices. Obediently, he smoothed his palms up her legs to her waist, thumbs finding the space below her lowest ribs. His head swam, as aroused by being ignored as he was by her attention. He was at a loss— wanting everything, sure of nothing.

Impulses washed over him. Did he dare cup the princess’ breasts? Petting her ribs, he imagined circling his thumb over the bead of her nipple that he could see plainly through her gown.

Then she shifted her weight, grinding forward in his lap and Keith choked on a moan as his hands clutched her ass in shock. She bucked her hips forward again, grinding against him until he pulled her fully seated in his lap.

“Princess,” he gasped as she hummed against Lotor’s lips, still trying to writhe. Lotor’s hands were on her, too, unfastening her dress. 

Keith saw stars as the fabric fell away, pooling over his hands and arms bracketing her waist. An expanse of perfect skin from throat to navel, breasts full, nipples dark. Warm and inviting, Keith throbbed with how badly he wanted to taste her skin. 

Allura’s fingers were in his hair again, her grip urgent. He looked up to find two sets of eyes on him.

“You flush so prettily, my pet,” Lotor cooed, stroking a knuckle over his cheek. “You like what you see.”

Keith’s mouth felt too dry. “Yes,” he rasped, “beautiful.” He couldn’t manage more, his cock trapped in his breeches against the heat of her sex, nipples taunting him. His hands cupped her ass through the fabric. He wasn’t sure yet whether he wanted all the fabric gone immediately or if he appreciated some reprieve.

“Go on,” she said. Keith whimpered. Lotor slid an arm around his back, speaking low at his ear.

“You want to use your mouth,” Lotor said. When Keith didn’t move, didn’t even nod, Lotor pressed him forward. He went eagerly, then— he only needed a little push.

Keith kissed her breastbone first, reverently. Hearing her sigh, he planted more soft kisses over her flesh as he unwound one hand from her dress to slide up the column of her spine. She moaned at the touch.

The growl came from Lotor, prickling along Keith’s nerves as he swirled his tongue around the bead of her nipple, coaxing another soft sound from her. Keith was hooked, pulling her body close and sucking her nipple into his mouth. Lotor growled again, biting at Keith’s neck.

“Now boys,” she purred, “you’ll have to learn to share.”

Both men looked up, gently startled.

_She hasn’t heard the prince growl?_ Keith thought, uncomprehending. Surely they enjoyed each other on their own wedding night. Keith found he couldn't imagine it at all— not without that familiar sound of Lotor's pleasure. What had happened last night?

Allura looked at them both, gesturing unsubtly to her two breasts. And whatever thought Keith was having before utterly vanished as the prince kissed the swell of her breast, brushing his tongue over her nipple where his own mouth had just been.

_Share._

Keith moved, hands still holding Allura’s back and her ass, lips finding her other nipple. He groaned, his prince close at his side, both of their breath hot against her skin.

Lotor’s movements were confident, refined. He kissed over her ribs before returning to suckle, trailing fingertips and then his tongue down over her stomach. Keith couldn’t ignore the way it spurred him on, imitating, learning. But where Keith was trapped beneath her weight, Lotor worked his way downward until he bared her hip bone and grazed his teeth there, growling again.

Allura’s sighs were musical. She gasped at the prince’s growl, but then seemed to melt with it.

“Oh,” she sighed, “you like that.”

Keith saw Lotor’s little smile, nuzzling his nose at her waist. He peered up at Keith past a strand of his hair, eyes sharpening more and more by the minute.

“Well,” Allura loosed a breathy laugh, shuddering as she first felt Lotor’s teeth, “I think we can quite forget about dinner.”

Allura was the first to move, crawling out of Keith’s lap to make a start for the bedchamber. Stepping away from the sofa with her back turned to the two men, she let the silk of her gown flutter to the floor, her pert ass and endless legs on display.

She turned back over her shoulder and smiled at the sight of their rapt expressions. Keith’s heart thundered.

“Are you coming?”

Allura rounded the bedpost, turning to see how Keith lingered nervously by the door. Lotor’s hand at the knight’s back urged him on while he unfastened his doublet.

She settled herself against the cascade of pillows at the head of the large bed, stretching her legs out long and lean over the plush duvet. It was freeing, laying out with her skin bare, nerves prickling with anticipation.

“Lotor?” she called sweetly as the prince steered Keith forward to stand near the side of the bed.

“Allura,” he smiled wolfishly at her, unfastening his cuffs. How his look made blood rush in her veins. Almost as much as Keith’s eyes trailing over her breasts to the pillow of short curls at the join of her naked thighs.

“How shall we put Keith at ease?” She watched the knight flush darker under the heat of her attention. Exquisite.

Lotor laughed, full-throated and free. “Was that the goal?”

He wrapped his arms around Keith’s torso from behind, caging him in and nibbling at the young man’s ear. Keith huffed a laugh at his own expense, trying not to tremble too visibly. Lotor hummed, considering her question. “Too many clothes, I think.”

“Take them off, Keith,” Allura said.

He gulped, audibly, and didn’t move a muscle.

“Shall we ask your prince to undress you?” she teased.

And that the knight could not abide, it seemed, spurring him to action. Boots off, laces dangling, the silk of his billowing shirt pulled swiftly overhead and baring all the whipcord muscle of his finely-wrought torso. Keith clutched the garment in two hands, balled in front of him. He didn’t seem ready to let it go, even less ready to decide what next to do with his hands.

Lotor leaned down over his shoulder, trailing sharp teeth up to the base of his neck, broad hands almost encircling the knight’s waist. The prince took a firm bite at his neck, sucking at his flesh. Keith moaned, doubling over to steady himself on the bed with both hands. She stared as Lotor rocked his hips against the cleft of Keith’s ass.

“Oh, husband,” Allura purred, “please, do continue.”

Keith looked at her then, shaking as Lotor took another sweet bite, the prince’s hands finding the buttons on Keith’s trousers. Allura felt herself falling into Keith’s midnight eyes as he watched her watching him. 

“I like to look at you, Keith,” she cooed. “Is that alright?”

Keith nodded, gasping again at Lotor’s sharp teeth. “Anything, princess.”

Allura’s brow furrowed in concern. “Ah, no, dear one. Only what you desire, too. You needn’t give everything.”

Keith met her eyes, and the look was unexpectedly fierce. It made her toes curl. “And if this is my desire?”

She tilted her head in question. Lotor shed his doublet and shirt, pressing his bare chest over Keith’s arched back while she watched, enrapt. She was torn between going to him and watching this unfold.

“Everything?” she breathed in response.

“Anything,” Keith answered. Then his voice hitched, shuddering as Lotor petted over the bulge in the knight’s half-open breeches. His own were still buttoned fast.

“You want your prince to fuck you?” she murmured sweetly. Keith whimpered as Lotor ground his hips against the boy’s ass, making quite sure he could think of nothing else. Allura licked her lips. “Want me to watch him have you?”

“Yes,” Keith breathed, hiding his eyes.

“Look at me,” she warned. His eyes snapped to her. “What say you?”

“Yes, princess,” he rasped, “please.”

“Good boy,” she smiled, but it was Lotor’s answering growl that sealed it. He stripped the young man’s trousers off roughly, dropping his own just as fast, then he pushed Keith harshly into the mattress. Keith’s forehead nuzzled at her feet. Lotor gripped his ass, one cheek in each hand, and bent to swirl his tongue over the young man’s hole.

Keith yelped, arching his back with his hands fisted in the duvet. It left Allura with the distinct impression that this sensation was new. Helpless sounds burst out of him as Lotor worked him with his mouth.

“Hnghn- fuck,” Keith cried, writhing.

“I’m not sure who has the dirtier mouth,” Allura mused. Then she felt Keith’s lips ghost over the top of her foot. The sensation shot straight to her groin. She trailed her fingertips over her bare belly and under the swell of her breasts. “You can use your mouth, too,” she suggested.

Keith’s eyes flashed to her through the mess of his hair, panting as Lotor parted Keith’s intimate flesh with his tongue. Keith kept his eyes up to gauge her reaction as he feathered three soft kisses over her sensitive skin, almost nuzzling his nose at her ankle as Lotor gripped his hips tighter.

Lotor licked his lips, mouth slick from his efforts. “How I’ve wanted to taste you like his,” he mused as he slicked his own cock with spit. “All the pretty little sounds you make for me.” Lotor pressed the blunt head of his cock to Keith’s hole and didn’t hesitate.

Allura flushed, shocked at the sight of Lotor sinking into his lover without the benefit of oil. Keith shuddered, jaw tense for a moment as he took the prince deep inside, a beatific little smile playing over the young man’s lips. _Oh._

Lotor snapped his hips, power rippling through him as he took Keith to the hilt. The knight’s mouth fell open in silent prayer.

Allura moved, crawling forward on hands and knees to run her fingers through Keith’s hair, his nose bobbing just inches from her thighs as Lotor thrust into him. The young man shuddered, caught between two masters. 

“Lie back, darling,” Lotor implored her, his voice more even than it had any right to be. “Let the boy part your thighs.”

She hummed, taking in Keith’s muzzy, overwhelmed look with deep pleasure. Lotor slowed the roll of his hips until Keith had to stifle a whine.

“I promise, he’ll be good for you,” the prince teased.

“Oh, I believe that,” she nodded, scraping her own nails down over the silver hair that clung close to her skin, the nub of her sex throbbing. As if thinking about the very same, Keith’s tongue darted over his lips. 

She pulled at his hair until he arched up to look at her. “Anything?” she asked.

“Anything for you,” Keith groaned, eyes flickering closed as Lotor renewed his thrusts at this new angle. He panted, hips grinding against the edge of the mattress.

“Up,” she said, and Lotor dragged him upright while she slid her calves off the side of the bed. Keith’s hands settled at her knees. Her eyes locked on Keith’s leaking dick as Lotor continued his generous thrusts.

“Beautiful, Keith,” she trailed her fingers down his chest, teasing toward his neglected cock before her hand fell away to her own lap. “So beautiful for us.”

Allura grazed two fingers through her slick and circled her clit, making her own breath catch. “Have a taste.”

Lotor tipped the boy toward her lap, but it was her fingers Keith chased first, driven until he’d lathed over those two digits with his tongue and pulled them into his mouth.

She couldn’t speak, so caught by the sight and sounds of him, moaning like a whore with the first taste of her on his tongue. Keith bent his head into her lap, nosing along her inner thigh and breathing her in. When he slid his tongue over her most sensitive flesh, unsteady from the onslaught on his own, Allura saw stars prickle behind her eyes.

“More,” Lotor ordered. Keith shivered as he flicked his tongue along her folds, lathing in teasing near-passes, closer, closer. She started to pant.

Lotor fucked into him harder. “You can do better than that,” he sneered. Keith whined, lips closing around the nub to suckle like a teat. 

“Ahhh,” Allura moaned, hips arching from the bed, relishing the way the prince’s thrusts drove Keith’s head to bob. 

The young man broke off sucking with a near-sob. “Close, I’m c-close, please!”

“Please, what?”

“Not yet!” Keith pleaded. Lotor kept on driving his cock home, pushing Keith’s head firmly back into Allura’s lap. Whimpering, he started licking and sucking like a drowning man.

“Let yourself go, Keith,” Lotor soothed, the prince’s voice betraying the state he himself was in. “Don’t fight it.”

A moan spilled from Keith’s chest, lips vibrating around his hot mouthful. His gripwas just this side too sharp on her thighs as the young man came hard between them. Lotor kept pumping him soundly all through it.

“Yes,” Allura sighed, grinding her hips up into Keith’s mouth with a shudder, desperate for more of his mouth. Keith tried to move coherently again, working his tongue while he blinked back tears.

Abruptly, Lotor pulled out of Keith’s body, gripping himself hard at the base of the shaft. The prince panted, eyes slitted. As he regained his composure, he petted his hands over Keith’s low back and thighs.

Allura stroked her fingers through Keith’s spill of hair, coaxing him up by degrees to look at her, lips lewd and wet.

“Are you still with us, Keith?”

Keith’s brows furrowed with confusion. “Y-yes, of course.”

“That’s a good boy,” she smiled.

Lotor staved off his orgasm through sheer force of will. He considered himself rather accomplished at self-restraint, under most circumstances, but then he’d never before had two lovers stretched out beneath him, aching for him and for each other.

It was a bit overwhelming.

But he managed to hold himself back, stroking the backs of Keith’s thighs as he steadied his breathing. The young knight bobbed his head obediently in Allura’s lap, stopping only when she pulled him up with her fingers in his dark hair.

She kissed Keith so sweetly, then, tasting herself on his tongue. Lotor surprised himself with his own growl. Keith looked back over his shoulder at the sound, flushed and lips beautifully swollen. But it was Allura who answered.

“Claim me, husband,” she commanded.

Lotor hoisted Keith up by the waist like he weighed nothing, sprawling him out alongside Allura. The prince wasted no time dragging his princess by her hips to the edge of the mattress, slicking the tip of his cock through her wet folds. It was all so fast, Keith was still blinking in surprise at the throw as Allura shuddered.

“You served your princess well,” Lotor teased. “Nice and wet for me.”

Allura laughed, a thin and breathy sound that morphed into a lewd cry as he fucked inside. The force of his need hit him like a slap in the face. She _belonged_ to him, not by rights but by her choice. She wanted him, wanted them both. And she would have them.

Keith growled long and low, curling his fingers in the princess’ cascade of moonlight hair. It was a hungry sound, and possessive, too, in a way Lotor had never imagined of him before. 

Lotor held Keith’s eyes and fucked into Allura’s body harder, pointedly. The knight’s eyes bored into him, leaving the prince to wonder whose position he envied more.

Keith bent to kiss her, taking advantage of her gasping, parted lips. She keened, clenched helplessly around Lotor’s cock, leaving him fighting for control of his impulses.

Keith mouthed his way down her throat, fondling her breasts and worshipping her creamed-coffee skin. Lotor focused hard on keeping his pace while Keith ventured further, working his way downward.

The prince raised Allura’s knees to his shoulders, holding her arched off the bed with a firm grip at her waist. The steeper angle was a boon for the princess, but nothing like Keith on his knees and nosing his way into her lap. When he licked over the hot nub of nerves there, she all but screamed.

“Again,” Lotor ordered, utterly drunk on her cries.

Keith set to work, cradling the arc of her inverted body in his arms and making just enough space for himself between to work her over. Lotor watched the princess clutching at the bedding, rolling his hips to meet her again and again.

She came on a ragged cry, convulsing all over. Lotor gripped her ass more sharply than he meant, hanging on to his resolve by a thread. He wanted more.

Keith let up when the princess whined, too sensitive for the moment. Eyes gazing up at Lotor, he held his mouth open, waiting.

_Oh._

Lotor slid his dick from Allura’s wet heat and straight into the delicate bow of Keith’s waiting mouth. Keith moaned luridly, his cock slick with her taste. 

Lotor fucked his mouth only briefly, returning to her cunt while Keith set to work urging her toward the brink again. She writhed, hips bucking in the air and cheeks flushed with the rush of her blood. Keith made her come again, immediately whining for his treat with an open mouth. How could the prince refuse him?

As Keith swallowed around his cock, Lotor knew he could not last any more. He was going to spill, and therein lay the problem: someone was going to be disappointed at being left out, weren’t they? Both had that greedy look in their eyes now.

But his worry was for naught. Keith slid Lotor’s cock from his mouth with a pop and guided him back into Allura’s body, climbing up to capture Lotor’s mouth in a sharp kiss.

Stars burst behind his eyelids. Lost between the taste of his lover’s tongue and the hot slide of Allura’s quivering body, he spilled into her. A moan ripped from his throat, and hers, while Keith purred against his lips.

As a treat, Keith licked his cock clean.

Keith blinked awake slowly, feeling a slight draft over his bare skin. He felt warm, almost too warm, tucked close against—

_Both,_ he thought finally, making sense of the feeling of sleep-drunk limbs draped over his waist, his cheek pillowed on Lotor’s shoulder with Allura settled warm against his back, her breath hot at the nape of his neck.

“There you are,” Lotor said softly.

Keith didn’t want to move lest he disturb the moment and Allura’s rest. He walked his fingers over Lotor’s chest, lingering.

Lotor seemed to understand, leaving him to his quiet thoughts with a kiss to the temple. So tender, Keith’s heart rattled in its cage.

Keith knew it was some fashion of love, what Lotor did with him. What he gave him, each secret meeting. Each stolen kiss, those were his— but Keith wasn’t fool enough to reach for more.

Lotor loved him in his way, he’d always thought. Loved to possess him. And wasn’t that enough?

But this. This feeling coiled in Keith’s chest, crawled up his throat to prick his eyes with unshed tears. Keith tucked his face closer to the prince’s neck in hiding.

“You are upset,” Lotor whispered, questioning.

“Surely I dreamed it all,” Keith whispered back. “This- can’t be real. She can’t really mean—”

“She means every word,” Lotor answered, breath hot on Keith’s face. “Allura wants you, completely. Did she not demonstrate that sufficiently for you?” Lotor’s voice carried with it a devilish smile.

“She wants you, too,” Keith frowned.

“You needn’t reassure me of that, kit.” Lotor pressed another kiss to Keith’s temple, skewering his heart. “Her desire for you, I missed it before- can’t imagine how- but I assure you, it is not unwelcome to me. You deserve every pleasure this life can give.” 

Keith’s heart lurched at those words, twisted up, or coming into focus. Lotor held him so close, a sudden pained tension moving through the prince’s body. It hurt Keith to feel it.

Had he always waited for the day the prince would tire of his dalliance? Yes, Keith had, knowing all the while how his own heart would not be changed, however it was broken. And if it was Lotor’s duty that bade him end what they’d shared… how Lotor must have felt, how unfair—

“I never thought to hope for such a thing,” Lotor whispered his confession, turning Keith into the pillows to face him properly. “I thought surely I’d lost you.”

Keith sighed into the fierce kiss, Allura’s weight at his back solely responsible for keeping Keith’s heart from galloping away. The princess stirred against him, sighing sleepily and nuzzling her nose at the top of Keith’s spine. He felt her lips press his skin there in a warm kiss.

The prince studied him, trailing a finger over Keith’s bottom lip. “I’ll never let you go again.”

Allura’s arms tightened around his waist and her voice held a sleepy smile. “Mind if we keep you, Keith?”

Tears definitely fell, then.

“No,” he choked on the word, “not at all.”

“Sanctify this, thy servant, our king,” the herald recited as he placed the heavy crown on Lotor’s head. “And enrich his royal heart with thine abundant grace.”

Lotor looked out at the assembled crowd and felt the weight of it, his responsibility to his people. Far from weighing him down, it seemed to buoy him up.

At his right hand, he felt Keith’s eyes on him, though it would breach protocol to look back for him now. Still, Lotor felt the temptation. Just to be sure of him.

“And this, our queen, crowned in this sacred place by thee whose kingdom endures forever.”

Allura smiled like the sun as the crown settled on her brow, as breathtaking as she was on their first meeting, but now twice as sure. Lotor took her hand.

The herald raised his arms overhead from behind their majesties, projecting his voice to the farthest reaches.

“I present to you, King Lotor and Queen Allura of Daibazaal.”

“God Save the King!”

“God Save the Queen!”

Unable to resist a moment longer, Lotor turned back, finding Keith hovering two paces behind his right shoulder. He was radiant, resplendent in new armor Lotor had had specially made, the family crest emblazoned on his breast. Keith arched an eyebrow in surprise under the king’s gaze, but his smile was proud, eyes bright and brimming with—

_Love._

Lotor’s breath lodged in his throat. He extended his hand to his knight.

Keith’s eyes widened with surprise, though he knew better than to refuse his king or hesitate. He went to him, hand resting gently in his majesty’s hand, and kneeled to kiss his knuckle.

“Sir Keith,” Lotor said warmly, delighting in Keith’s dark-sky eyes as they locked on his. “I know your love is true.”

Keith’s pretty flush told all. “My king, I am your honest servant.”

“And of my queen? How stands your love?”

Lotor felt Allura pinch his palm, gently chiding as Keith swallowed hard. But the young man’s eyes never wavered.

“True,” Keith answered reverently, “as my life.”

“As our love stands with you,” Lotor replied. Keith’s lip wobbled, managing a watery smile. “Rise for your king.”

Keith stood at Lotor’s side, hands clasped in echo of his and Allura’s hands, and the people raised up a cheer.

**Author's Note:**

> There will be more in this series; I've already started. In the meantime, you can find me on [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero).
> 
> Again, the lovely art is by [Kiki / FrenchPopsicle](https://twitter.com/FrenchPopsicle)!
> 
> Other Lotor works by this author:
> 
>   * Lotura ABO [Lotus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079196)
>   * Keitor sparring [Back For More](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202277)
>   * Mattor slowburn [Aren't I the Lucky One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26171101)
>   * Mattor fear boner [The Lies We Tell Ourselves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130469)
>   * Shotor fwb [Unspoken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127079)
>   * Sheitor voyeurism [His Eyes Only](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123509)
>   * Lotorcest noncon [Asymmestry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081176)
> 

> 
> I live and breathe your comments, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading. ❤️💜💖


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